


Shaderose's Tumblr Drabbles

by Shaderose



Series: Shaderose's Parkner Tumblr Prompts [7]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: :))), Any important tags (trigger warnings) will be put in front of the chapter, Aside from that, Bisexual Peter Parker, Boys In Love, Drabbles, Gay Harley Keener, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tumblr Prompt, Tumblr drabbles, idrk what to tag here, uhh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:34:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23605375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaderose/pseuds/Shaderose
Summary: I'm gonna be writing a bunch of drabbles for tumblr, but I don't wanna post them all separately, so I'm gonna put them all here!This will mostly be parkner, but there may be irondad or other things in the future! :))
Relationships: Harley Keener/Peter Parker
Series: Shaderose's Parkner Tumblr Prompts [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1478813
Comments: 27
Kudos: 82





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello yall! This is exactly what the descriptions says, so I'm not gonna repeat myself, and just let yall get into the drabble.
> 
> This one was based on the prompt: 55. "Finding old photographs you’d forgotten about."
> 
> Hope you enjoy!! 💞💞

Peter sighs, sitting back on the heels of his feet with a small, slowly slipping smile, an almost empty closet and a few full boxes stacked in front of him. 3 down, only one more to go. His body aches, his back sore and his arms throbbing (damn, old age sucks), so he takes a small break, taking the time to look around the room.

It used to be full once. With stuffed animals and princess toys, then with posters of boy bands and actors, and anything inbetween. The walls having changed colors from pink to black to blue as the years went on, decorations changing with the times, and the ages. The room aging along with his little princess, from kid, to teen, and now... an adult. Now, the walls are still blue, but bare. The bed sheets made for once, neat, not unkempt and all over the place. The room spotless, no toys or stuff animals or trinkets that she loved to collect, all of it put away into the same boxes sat in front of him, the only things left behind two side tables and a desk. Peter never used to notice it before, but the room was so full of life with _her_ in it. Now, it was dim. Dull. Empty.

"Dad, are you almost done with those boxes??" A higher pitched, feminine voice calls out from the other room, and Peter shakes himself out of his head, blinking the blurriness from his eyes and swallowing the lump in his throat.

"Almost! Just got one thing left, Mila!" He calls back to his impatient daughter, who is blissfully ignorant of his struggle to stay composed, of the internal battle raging in his mind, of the nostalgia and melocholic memories that are flooding him and threatening to drag him down.

He shakes himself off again, and gets back to work, trying his hardest to ignore his mind, trying his best to push away the thoughts of a little girl, only 4 years old, dressed in frilly princess dresses and pixie wings. He grabs the last few things in the now bare closet, some more small trinkets, Mason jars full of rocks and glass from the beach that Mila loves to collect, before he grabs the last bigger thing in the small area. A binder.

He furrows his eyebrows, trying to think back on a time that Mila went through a photography phase or something similar to it, but nothing comes to mind as he opens the pages, freezing as soon as he does. He lets out a faint laugh, barely a breath, and runs his fingers over the plastic covering, a large, wet smile growing on his face. "Hey, Harls?" He calls out over his shoulder, eyes staying focused on the photographs in front of him. "Can you come here a minute?"

He waits a few seconds, before the familiar heavy footsteps of his husband step into the room, padding over to him. "Yes dear?"

Peter glances up at the man, unable to control his bubbling tears anymore as they spill down his pushed up cheeks, his blurry vision making out the man's graying hair and wrinkled face, still so, so beautiful to him, and murmurs, "Do you remember these? When we took them?"

Harley looks over his shoulder with a squint, his vision worsening year by year, before a wide smile grows on his face, the corners of his eyes scrunching, his baby blues softening. "Wow," he whispers, awed. "I haven't seen these in years. We took them senior year."

Peter nods, and glances back at the pictures, chuckling even his chest heaves with a sob. He runs a finger over a smaller picture of himself, stood at the corner of the street, on his phone and unaware of the camera. "You always took them whenever I least expected it." He glances at another picture, with him at his desk, head on his hand and looking bored out of his mind. He laughs again, his voice wet and thick with tears. "Even in science class."

Harley chuckles along, running a hand up and down Peter's back as he settles beside him on the floor, huffing as his bones creak. "Do you remember prom?" His voice is still soft, still quiet, as if it raised any higher it would ruin the fragile moment they had found themselves in, pointing to a picture near the corner of the page, showing Harley leaning against the wall, in a suit with sunglasses on.

Peter snorts, wiping at his running nose. "Oh, do I. You thought you were so cool, wearing that bright blue suit."

Harley shutters as if hes cringing, before laughing, a cheeky grin on his face. "You loved me in that bright blue suit."

"That I did." Peter murmurs, before looking over his shoulder at the other man, now looking back at him, connecting their eyes, sapphires to honey, a soft, warm smile on his face. "I still do."

Harley smiles back gently, and raises a hand to wipe away his tears, before holding his chin and pressing a kiss to his lips, gentle and sweet. "I love you." He whispers under his breath for the millionth time, but it still feels like the first, Peter thinks it will forever, his heart stuttering and his face flushing.

"I love you too."

Just as they lean in for another kiss, another set of footsteps approach, softer and practically noiseless on the hardwood floor. "Dad, are you- ugh, are you guys being sappy again?"

Both men stare at each other, before bursting into laughter, glancing over to see Mila's face twisted with faux disgust, the small grin growing showing her true feelings. "Come on, you can be sappy later, I gotta goooo." She whines, pushing her long brunette hair back into a ponytail, her green eyes twinkling. "I'm meeting up with-"

"With Haley by the fountain outside your school at 4 o'clock sharp, we know, sugarplum." Harley snickers, groaning as he stands. "We're almost ready to go, right honey?" He holds out a hand to Peter, who shuts the book of photographs and grabs it with a grateful smile, standing with ease.

"Yeah, just got a few more things and then we'll be ready to go."

"Okay, well, hurry up." She huffs, before her face softens, giving them a real, gentle smile. "Thanks dad, papa." She says, her eyes shining with appreciation and love before she turns heel and marches out of the room, her head held high.

Peter huffs out one last laugh, shaking his head, _'she got that from him',_ before Harley speaks back up, voice filled to the brim a bright amusement. "Well, you heard the princess. Let's get this done."

Peter agrees, before pausing, placing the photograph book on the end table in the room gently, vowing to finish going through the rest of it later before walks back to his husband, packing up the rest of their daughters things, a small fire of warmth and love swelling in his chest.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short but sweet!!  
> Based off of the prompt: 62. "Lazy Morning Kisses Before They’ve Even Opened Their Eyes, Still Mumbling Half-Incoherently, Not Wanting To Wake Up"
> 
> Hope you enjoy!! :))

Pattering footsteps, a loud thump, and a wail of "Daddy!" awakens Peter from his slumber, his snore cutting off into a snort as he jolts in the bed, blinking for a few seconds to try and clear the blurriness from his vision. It doesn't work, his eyelids feeling heavier and heavier again, and he wonders why he woke up in the first place. He starts to lie back down, starts to fall back asleep when-

"DADDY!!"

Oh yeah. _That's_ why.

There's a groan from beside him, then, and a grumble, voice slurred together and thick with an accent. "Go help yer kids."

" _Our_ kids," Peter corrects without thinking, rough and patchy, before he stretches and groans himself, knowing _he's_ gonna have to be the one to get up.

He rolls over, eyes still closed, patting out with his hands until he finds the warm mass beside him, tugging to pull him closer, even as Harley lets out noises of complain the entire time. Peter blinks his eyes open again, even as they scream to stay closed, and is surprised to find two azure ones staring back, narrowed, half hooded, but open nonetheless. Peter gives him a faint smile, which Harley tries to return, before he pressed their lips, once, twice. "Good morning." He mumbles into their third kiss, Harley grunting back in response, causing Peter to snort again, rolling his eyes as he pulls away. "So sweet."

Harley reopens one of his eyes, gives him a slightly apologetic look (and Peter knows isn't true, from the way his eyes are sparkling, the bastard), and drawls out a long, teasing, "Good mornin' darlin'." Peter flushes, and pouts, because Harley _knows_ what that accent does to him, goddamn it. And oh does he know it, the older man bursting into chuckles at Peter's red face, before pulling him back into a longer, drawn out, more passionate kiss, Peter letting out a quiet moan before rolling them over so he can straddle him, Harley running a hand through his hair, pulling him closer, _tugging,_ their bodies rolling together, pressing together and-

Another thud, and another screech. "DAD! POP! MILA STOLE THE TV REMOTE AGAIN!!"

"JAX HAS HAD IT ALL MORNING!" is the higher pitched, almost squeaky response. "ITS MY TURN!"

Peter let's out a low sigh into their kiss, pulling away as Harley snickers below him. He smacks his husband's shoulder, hard as gets up, and Harley let's out a yelp. "You better be getting up too, asshole."

"Hey, they weren't calling out to me!" Harley pouts as Peter stands, stretching a bit again before walking towards the closet, trying to find a big enough hoodie that'll hide his _problem_ and not scar his poor children.

"Yes, they were." Peter reminds him, shuffling around the clothes before he finds one of Harleys old Rose Hill High hoodies, worn and stained from years upon years of use, and pulling it over his head. He finds another hoodie, one that'll fit Harley, and grins. "And you're awake now, anyways, so." He stands, throwing the sweater at the lump on the bed, if only to hear him yelp again. He then stands there, arms crossed and eyebrow raised as Harley flops over in the bed to glare at him. Peter just glares back. "Up. Now."

Harley groans loudly, dramatically, but sits up. "Fiiine, fine." He pulls the hoodie Peter threw at him on, causing his hair to go askew, and Peter rolls his eyes again in annoyance, even as a smile tugs at his lips.

Peter turns and walks to the door, feeling Harleys gaze on him the entire way there, before he opens the door and calls out over his shoulder, "Kitchen, five minutes!"

He hears another groan as he shuts the door behind him, giggling to himself and shaking his head at his husband's antics, smile wide on his face, heart full of warmth, of love.

Now, time to see what his rascals are up to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi to me on Tumblr! @shadedrose01


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based off of the prompt:
> 
> 64\. "Violet bruised eyes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Pride Month everybody!! 
> 
> Know that no matter your gender or sexuality identity, you are welcomed and loved ❤🌈🌈🌈❤
> 
> Hope you enjoy! 
> 
> Note/Warning: I've never written a trans character before, and this deals with negative self thoughts and dysphoria (a dead name is also used, but is crossed out). If there's anything I've gotten wrong, or if the way I wrote it is insensitive and incorrect, please please please let me know and I will try to fix it/delete it. 💞

He let's out a slow, shaky breath, staring at his knuckles which are slowly turning white from his tight grasp on the marble counter of the vanity in his bathroom. He glances up once, catching a quick glimpse of stormy grays, surrounded by dark purple circles, of long, _too long_ blond locks, of a face too rounded, too clean, and his face instictually scrunches, his gaze dropping as his eyes burn, more rivers slipping down his cheeks as his mind screams at him, _'wrong, wrong, wrong-'_

He squeezes his eyes shut, more liquid escaping as his body, curved and top heavy and _wrong,_ heaves in a silent sob. He cant keep doing this, he knows. Cant keep living this lie, cant keep pretending. Knows that why he texted that morning, why his boyfriend was in the living room right now, waiting for him to come back out, probably getting worried at how long he was taking-

But goddamn it, he was _scared._ He was scared shitless. Not because he thought Peter would hurt him, no no no, he would never hurt him. But because he didnt know if he'd _stay_ once he knew.

And Peter... God, Peter means so much to him. Peter, who stayed with him through every up and down, who held him close after he cried for hours and hours when his mom died, who he's sat with and laughed for hours, until his stomach aches and happy tears will rolling down his face, who's been with him- well, he thinks he's a _her_ ; even the thought causing his stomach to churn and another sob to shutter through him- for almost 2 years now, having started dating in 9th grade when they were both new and baby faced and _young_ , so so young and naive, and-

And Harley- not ~~_Hailey_~~ , no, no, _no-_ didnt know if he could lose him. Didnt know if he could handle it if Peter looked at him in cold, hard disgust and walked out, never looking back. But it's a very real possibility. He knows some people cant handle transgender people (he's _trans_ , it's still a revelation for him even after all these years of hating himself and wondering why, even after figuring out what trans meant a few months ago, even after realizing _he was that_ last month, it was still weird, still new to him), much less _date_ them.

And from what he knew, Peter was _straight_. And Harley wasn't a girl. He was almost sure that Peter wouldn't stay, because why would he? He wanted a _girl,_ thought he was dating a _girl,_ but Harley w _asn't a girl_ and-

He shakes his head, opens his eyes and wipes his tears away, taking a deep breath. No more time for second thoughts, he just- he just has to go out there, say it, and- and _see what happens._ He swallows down his fear, straightens his back, and unlocks the door, walking out.

He makes his way back to the living room, where his boyfriend ( _'for now'_ his mind tells him, _'he'll leave, he will'_ ) is still lounging on the couch, sprawled out and relaxed, scrolling on his phone without a care in the world, unknowing of the secret, no, the _revelation_ that was about to dropped, that was about to ruin their night _and r_ elationship. He glances up when Harley walks back in, and gives him a warm, familiar grin, his coffee eyes sparkling and shining with the same abundant amount of love as he always has when staring at ~~Hailey~~ and it causes his chest to squeeze, his heart to hammer worse, his hands to clench. Because thats who he thinks he is, thats the facade of the human Peter knows and loves, hidden under lumps and curves, unknowing of the _t_ _rue_ him lurking underneath.

"Hey baby, is everything okay?" He tilts his head, and his smile dims a little, his irises swirling with a worry, a concern now that Harley doesn't deserve, Peter doesn't deserve this, doesn't- he can't do this, he can't- "You were in the bathroom for a while." Harley swallows, and stays silent as he sits down, back ramrod straight and head down, focusing on his hands sitting in his lap, squeezing and unsqueezing over and over in his nerves, his _fear._ At least, they were, until another hand reaches over and plants itself on top of them, causing Harley to flinch slightly. " ~~Hailey~~ , what's wrong?" Peter sounds scared, now, scared and confused and Harley's heart _aches_ but he _needs_ to do this, he _needs_ to.

"I have to tell you something." He finally finds the strength to whisper, his voice high, too high, and squeaky, a current of self hatred pumping through his veins as he longs for it to be deep, to be normal, to be _him_. "And it's- something big, and I get it if you want to break up with me afterwards, or hate me, I get it, I do, trust me-"

" ~~Hailey~~ ," he squeezes Harley’s hands with his own, trying to be reassuring but his words, the name- not his name, that’s _not his name_ \- makes Harley flinch again, and his face scrunch up as tears burn at his eyes, making his view of their beige carpet floor blurry. "You're scaring me, princess, talk to me. What's going on?"

"I'm not a princess!" He blurts, then, loud and irrational, Peter reeling back in surprise, his eyes wide when Harley jerks back up to stare at him just as his tears start to fall.

Peter pauses, clearly trying to think of the best way to go about this, before he leans forward, face focused, serious and voice cautious, as if Harley was fragile, dainty, _breakable._ "Okay. If you didn't like the nickname, you could've just told me, ~~Hails~~."

"No! That's not-" Harley rubs at his face, rough and harsh, scrubbing away his tear and rubbing his face raw as he croaks out, all of the fight rushing out of him. "...I'm not ~~Hailey~~ , Peter."

He hears a scoff from beside him, but its gentle, more bewildered than anything else. "Yes you are, I've seen your birth certificate, I've met your parents-"

"I'm a man, Peter." He forces out, finally, _finally,_ the words slipping through his teeth like air, soft, low, barely a whisper, but its enough, enough to shut Peter up completely, enough to make Harleys eyes and heart squeeze as he continues, "I'm not ~~Hailey~~ , because I'm not a _girl_. I'm a _man._ I'm- I'm _transgender_ , Peter."

His chest convulses in a sob as soon as the words escape him, and a multitude of emotions rush over him, but he can't tell what they are, can't distinguish if they're panic, fear, concern, or if they're relief, joy, a weight off of his shoulders. Maybe its a mix of both, swirling and making his stomach churn as they sit in silence, the rock forming in Harley's stomach getting bigger and bigger, heavier and heavier the longer Peter doesnt say anything, doesn't move, doesn't breath or blink or _anything_. He squeezes his eyes shut again, turning away again, shoulders tense and heart aching. He can't bare to look at what he knows will be disgust and anger on the love of his life's face. He _can't_. "I'm sorry. I- I know this isn't what-" He hiccups, tears still rushing down his face and trembling his chest, his breathing ragged. "What you signed up for. I under- understand if you can't deal with it, if you- you want to- to-" He breaks off into sob, harder and heavier, leaning forward and curling into himself more, just as Peter finally, finally responds.

"No, no no wait, no, that's not-" A hand brushes at his arm, and Harley jolts again, but Peter doesn't pull away, grabbing onto his forearm gently, softly, his hold loose enough for Harley to break if he truly wanted to. "I would never, baby. _Never."_

Harley freezes, blinking his eyes back open and glancing up at Peter, who's looking back at him with- with honesty, with compassion, and care, and _love_ , but- but that doesn't make sense, he- "You don't- don't mind?" He murmurs shakily, searching Peter gaze for any hint of a lie, but he can't find any, can't find any hostility, or hatred, or anger at all. Only understanding, and truth.

"Of course I don’t, ~~Haile~~ \- uh, I dont-" He stumbles and fumbles for a second, and Harley can't help the small chuckles that bubble in his chest before he corrects, "Harley." Peter nods, looks contemplative. " _Harley_. It suits you." Harley can feel himself beam at that, a smile twitching at his lips and his eyes crinkling. "Of course I don't care, Harley." Peter, his boyfriend, his _soulmate_ , he loves him God he _loves him_ , repeats, looking straight into Harleys eyes and past his physicality, into his heart and soul, into his being. "Man, woman, both, neither, I don't mind. Whatever makes you happy."

He can feel more tears pooling in his eyes, but for a completely different reason this time, his chest warming and swelling with adoration, with love and security and comfort, but he just, he _has_ to make sure- "Are- are you sure?"

Peter softens, and reaches a hand over to cup Harley's cheek, and he leans into it immediately, seeking his touch. "Of course. I don't love you for your body, ~~Hai~~ \- Harley. I love you for your heart, and wit. For your stubbornness, to put your foot down for what you love, for your patience, to be able to deal with me every damn day," They both chuckle then, light and airy, but real. "For your temper, to tell me off whenever I need it, for your confidence, and the way you can command a room just by walking in. But, in general..." He curls a strand of Harley's hair behind his ear, still too long and straight and _not him_ , but its less noticeable now, when the other man is staring at him with the biggest, sappiest love eyes in the world. "I love you for _you_. _You_. I love _you_." He presses gently into the dimple on Harleys cheek for each you, and he can't hold back the tears anymore, the waterworks bubbling over and running down his cheeks like waterfalls as he sobs and rushes forward to crumple into Peter's arms, who are open and waiting for him, and cradle him as soon as he arrives, pulling him closer to his chest.

"Thank you, thank you." Harley repeats, over and over, his cheeks aching from his smile and his chest bursting with his joy, and happiness and hope and excitement and _love_ , overflowing with it, causing it to compass him completely as he switches his words, to emphasize and mimic the way he feels. "I love you, I love you, I love you so much."

And Peter just holds him close, one hand rubbing up and down his back, the other running through his hair as he presses a kiss to the side of his head, and murmurs "Of course, always. I love you too."

Once his tears finally stop, Harley slowly dozes off in his boyfriends arms. Once he wakes, they'll discuss where Harleys pronouns and where wants to go next, they'll start to plan his transition, buy him binders and book hair appointments and do all of the things Harley longed to do for years. Harley will slowly, but surely, become himself, all with Peter at his side. But for now, he slowly eases into sleep, feeling joyous, comforted, loved and accepted.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayooo this was the final prompt I had left in my inbox on tumblr, so I decided to finish it last night. Its not getting too much love on tumblr, so I decided to post it here, too!
> 
> Hope you enjoy!! 💗💗
> 
> The prompt was:  
> "maybe where harley burns himself out in the lab and when Peter manages to get him to leave he passes out pls?"
> 
> Tw/cw for burns, getting cut, and passing out (though nothing is too graphic). Stay safe!!

"Shit!" He curses, as he rips his finger away from the wires and shakes it, trying to ignore the way it burns as the electricity runs through his joints. Once the pain settles, slightly, he pushes it into his mouth, glaring down at the conglomeration of metal and wires sat in front of him innocently on the table, sighing when it doesn't disintegrate or melt before his eyes. Oh well, it was worth the shot.

He's been working on this suit, a new suit built for _him_ as a Just in Case (in case Peter or Tony or _somebody_ needs him on the field at some point, as a last resort), for what feels like _y_ _ears_ now, struggling with getting it exactly how he wants it to be, and he's frustrated, because hes been working extra hard on it lately. He wants it to be done _soon_ , because the sooner its done, the sooner it can be there, the sooner Peter can be _safer_.

He sighs again, plopping down into the chair beside the table before leaning his elbows onto it, putting his face into his hands for a moment, giving him only a moment to close his eyes, to _rest_.

He's so _tired_.

He pushes his head back up suddenly, and shakes himself out of the haze he found himself in, standing back up and tilting the light at a deeper angle, to get it exact where he needs it to be. He needs to focus. He needs to get this done.

He focuses back in, ignoring the faint fuzziness at the edges of his eyes, reworking the wires with only a bit more difficulty before starting on sanding the metal pieces, making them _just_ right. He tilts his head once thats done, biting on his bottom lip. There's something _off,_ he thinks its too _l_ _ong_ , so he goes to grab the electric saw, without much thought, without even a glance.

It should've been unsurprising, the way he reaches directly for the blade and slices his finger open immediately, but Harley still jumps, still swears loudly, continuously, again, quickly grabbing a napkin sat beside him and pushing it onto the cut, hissing as pain shoots through his bones.

And of course, just at that moment, does another voice chip in, of a man who should be asleep but somehow, right now, is awake. "Baby? Harls, it's two in the morning, what're you doin' up?"

If that wasn't bad enough, there's something else you should know about one Harley Keener. The man can handle horror movies, can handle jump scares and needles and the ocean like a champ. But when he sees blood? When he sees the drops of red crimson, escaping from his finger, he can feel his legs go weak, wobbling like jelly, can feel his head start to spin. His stomach start to lurch.

He can hear Peter speak up again, but the words sound muffled from the ringing in his ears, and before he knows it, the room is spinning and he's falling to the floor, and he's blinking-

And then he's in a bed. Staring up at a sleek white ceiling, with a wooden fan circling slowly in an almost soothing rhythm, the noise adding a faint hum into the room. He groans, throwing an arm over his eyes and wincing as his finger hits the pillow, because he _recognizes that fan._

"Hey, you're awake!" He lowers the arm just enough to peek up at Peter in the doorway, leaning against the wooden frame with his hip, holding two glasses with a softer smile on his eyes, even as his eyes sparkle. He walks further into the room, placing the glances onto the table before sitting on the sheets besides his legs, placing a hand onto his knee and squeezing once. "Sorry, I was just grabbing some water. How are you feeling?"

His eyes, looking golden in the moonlight cascading through the linen blinds, pierce through his guard as easily as they did the first day they met, the first night they spent together, the first day they kissed, their first date. The way he knows they will on their wedding day, as he glances down at the ring shimmering on his ring finger as Peter squeezes his knee again. "'M alright. I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" His eyebrows raises. "For passing out?" At Harleys nod, Peter scoffs into faint laughter, glancing away. "I mean, after the first few seconds of "oh god he passed out what happened?" And I found the cut on your finger, I wasn't too concerned about that. _That_ is not what you should apologize for." Harley winces again, but this time its not at the pain, or the way his finger is throbbing against the bandages Peter must've put there after dragging him to bed. No, this time its at the heated glare Peter sends his way, the annoyance only a cover for the sheer amount of concern swirling in his irises. His hand runs up and down his leg, then, and Harley tries to ignore the way it sends shivers down his spine. "Why were you up, baby?"

His voice is much softer than his look, and Harley sags as he sighs, dropping his arm completely from his face and picking at the sheets below him with a shrug. "I wanted to get the suit done. The Iron Lad suit?" Peter hums, showing he's listening, but doesn't say anything else as Harley pauses, knowing Harley has more to say, just the same as he knows Harley likes sugar in his coffee, or the same he knows the way he likes to stand in the sunbeams just to feel the warmth, or likes his hair to be played with. Knowing _Harley,_ through and through. "I just-" He huffs, lightly, before glancing back up into Peter's eyes, and then, when that becomes too intense, to the wall behind him. "I keep having- dreams. Nightmares. Of you getting hurt, of you needing me and I just- I cant-"

He doesn't finish, leaning back to look up at the ceiling, again, and blink away the burning tears pooling at his rims. He hears a sigh, low and sad, before a hand comes up to cup his jaw and cheek, to lower his face back down until their eye to eye, until Peter leans forward and their noses brush, their foreheads touching, leaning against him gently. "You gotta trust me, Harley."

When Harley starts to rebuttal with an "I do-", Peter just shushes him with a kiss, leaving his breathless as he leans back again, the brunet pulling back again and laughing airily as Harley leans in subconsciously, wanting more. "I know you do, baby, but you gotta _trust_ me." He stares deeply into him, and Harley can't help but to stare back, but to melt into the pools of honey warming his soul. "Trust that I'll try my hardest to come back, to come home to you. I can't-" Peter puffs out warm air that brushes against his lips, that Harley inhales and lets warm his insides as his heart thumps heavily in his chest. "I can't promise anything, God I wish I could, but- I'll _try._ I'll try my hardest to get home to you."

With the way Peter is staring into him, pleading and begging him to understand, theres no way Harley _couldn't._ He nods, and Peter pushes his nose against him again, rubbing it in a butterfly kiss that makes Harley scrunch his own, and chuckle as he rubs back. "Okay," He murmurs, whispers, as Peter smiles sapily back at him. "Okay."

They lean back into another kiss, this one lasting longer, lingering, soft and full of emotions they couldn't show, they couldn't speak, Peter's hands running up to the back of his neck and Harley's grabbing onto his collar, his shoulder.

After they pull away, Peter leans in fully and wraps Harley into a hug, that Harley folds into easily, pressing another kiss to Peter's collarbone. "We can-" Peter speaks back up, tone hushed and crackled in the cold winter night sky. "We can work on the suit together, on Monday? If you want."

Its a compromise, and Harley jumps at the chance, but not without a faint tease of, "Not tomorrow?" The words slightly slurred together as exhaustion starts to return, creeping up on him slowly, steadily.

Peter snorts, and pinches his side lightly, making Harley yelp. Just the reaction he wanted. "Tomorrow is a rest day." He says firmly, and Harley doesn't even think of fighting against him, just shuffling closer to the brunet with a hum.

"Monday." He agrees, voice barely a whisper as sleep slips his way into him, as his eyes slowly fall closed and his breathing starts to even.

Peter just pulls him closer, rubbing a heavy hand up and down his back. And just as he's about to give into the feeling, he feels another kiss pressed to his head, like a promise, easing the last tension from his body and allowing him to falling into an easy, calm slumber.


End file.
